The Right Thing
by MillyBeaux
Summary: It's Christmas Eve at the Weasley's and Harry has invited an unwelcome guest. Harry tries to do the right thing in spite of conflicting feelings. Old relationships fall apart, new ones begin. A one-shot, meant to give you some warm Christmas fuzzies. Set ten years after Hogwarts, mostly following canon with some small changes. Rated T for scenes involving alcohol and minor slash.


**Author's Note** : I know, I know, I have a different fic to finish. But as the year leans into the Christmas season, I couldn't help but think of my two favorite boys and what they might be doing at the holidays as adults. I rarely write so close to canon so please accept the changes I've made and ignore the things I've gotten wrong. Meant to be a one-shot at repairing relationships and gaining understanding in the least likely of places. True to Christmas, maybe. Anyway, drop me a review if you enjoyed it.

 **The Right Thing**

Harry stood at the window with a mug of mulled cider watching the snowfall. He let out a shaky sigh. Why did he do this to himself? What was the right thing, anyway? As he had gotten older, that question only became more enigmatic. The adult world was far different than being a student at Hogwarts. He almost didn't recognize himself in the window's reflection. It had been almost ten years since their not-a-graduation from school, almost ten years since his last battle. It had only been eight years or so since he started working as an auror. The job was, admittedly, less exciting than he was led to believe. He almost missed having a Dark Lord around to clean up after.

"I still don't know why you did that, Harry." Ginny was at his elbow, her voice hushed yet harsh. He didn't turn, but looked at her distorted reflection in the window instead.

"He was going to be alone, Gin. For Christmas."

"You didn't have to invite him to my parent's house."

"Well, it was what we were doing. And your mum said it was fine."

"She says everything is fine. You didn't have to invite him at all."

"He probably won't even come," Harry said, sounding more disappointed than he meant to.

"It's almost like you want him to," Ginny sniffed. "It's not like he was even nice. To any of us."

"Yeah, well," Harry took a sip of his rapidly cooling hot cider. "People change. I see him around the office, you know, and he's not like he was. Are you the same person you were ten years ago?"

Ginny scoffed, already walking away. "You aren't. That's for sure."

"Ginny," he half-heartedly called after her but she was already loudly ribbing Ron about his beard and lack of haircut.

Harry sighed again and scratched his own short beard. It was barely more than stubble, really, and Ginny had urged him to shave before they left, which was exactly why he didn't. Now he wondered if he should have. He turned from the window and refilled his empty mug. If he wasn't going to show up, he could at least send an owl or something. Not keep Harry waiting all night. He swallowed hard, as if he could swallow the anxiety eating away at his chest.

Christmas at the Weasley's was always a two day affair. This afternoon was Christmas Eve and dedicated to drinks, meals, catching up with family and close friends. They would spend the night in Ginny's old room, even though he wished he could bunk with Ron like the old days but he didn't think Hermione would like that very much, and in the morning they would open their gifts over tea and breakfast.

It seemed to feel longer every year.

Harry sipped his hot cider, enjoying the warmth that came into his cheeks with the slight buzz from the alcohol. He wasn't going to show, and that was okay. It was probably better, less conflict and all. Maybe Ginny would let it go.

There was a sound like a muted thunderclap, followed by a polite knock on the front door.

Harry tried to ignore the anxious creature trying to claw its way out of his ribcage and made his feet move.

"Harry dear, get the door will you?" Mrs Weasley called from the kitchen.

"Of course, Mum." After they were married, Mrs Weasley had insisted on the parental moniker. It always felt a little odd on Harry's tongue, but he knew it made her happy. She grinned up at him from a steaming pot of something on the stovetop. "It'll be fine, Harry. You did a nice thing there."

He smiled weakly back and gave her a little nod. He wasn't so sure about it now that he was actually here. Maybe it would be someone else at the door. Harry didn't know how he felt about that possibility.

He opened the door and there stood Draco Malfoy, looking much like he did when Harry saw him around the Ministry of Magic, tall, thin, and dressed in black. His pointed nose was slightly red from the cold, his shoulder length hair pulled back into a neat half-ponytail. He was also holding a small, festively wrapped package.

He inclined his head with a small smirk. "Happy Christmas, Potter."

Harry felt an unexpected wave of relief. "Happy Christmas, Malfoy," he grinned. "Come in."

Draco stomped the snow from his feet and entered The Burrow. Mrs Weasley appeared from the kitchen. "Come, come, come," she chided. "Harry, take his coat."

Draco shrugged off his long black coat and dutifully handed it to Harry, the smirk never leaving his face. It was different than when they were at school, Harry wasn't sure how; it just had a different feeling, maybe.

"Thank you for having me, Mrs Weasley, I do hope I'm not intruding."

"Oh no, dear, we're so happy to have you. Aren't we?" She turned and looked into the living room at the others who had grown quiet and were staring at this odd guest.

Ron and Ginny were whispering to each other and stealing glances.

Malfoy cleared his throat and offered the box to Mrs Weasley. "Happy Christmas, Mrs Weasley."

"For me?"

Malfoy smiled and Harry was almost shocked at how normal his face looked. "Some for you, some for everyone."

Mrs Weasley looks positively ecstatic as she opened the box. From it she pulled a large bouquet of roses in red, white, and gold. She gasped. "They're beautiful, Draco, thank you."

Malfoy nodded towards the box. Mrs Weasley pulled out a large fruitcake and a bottle of top shelf irish whiskey. "Well, then," she said, her voice full of excitement. "These will be for later, eh?" She winked at Draco and Harry as she disappeared back into the kitchen.

Mr Weasley was suddenly behind Harry, reaching around him for Malfoy's hand.

"Welcome, welcome," he said with a smile, pumping Draco's hand up and down. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, sir."

"I know we didn't get on well, but I was sorry to hear about your father's passing."

Malfoy cleared his throat and adjusted his tie even though it was barely visible under his sweater. Harry looked down at his own outfit, a tired t-shirt and flannel combination, thinking he should've dressed a bit nicer.

"Thank you, sir. It seemed to be his time."

"Of course, of course. Terrible thing, though. Please, call me Arthur, my boy, do you know everyone already?"

For the first time, Malfoy looked uncomfortable. "It has been a while, sir."

Mr Weasley glared at him.

"Oh, um," Malfoy said, "Arthur."

Mr Weasley's face broke back into his signature grin as he clapped his hands together. "Yes! Yes, it has indeed. Come along, we'll do introductions!" He laid an arm over Draco's shoulders and led him into the living room.

"Can I get you a drink, Malfoy?" Harry called after them, his own grin spreading over his face.

"Yes, Potter," Draco said over his shoulder. "Sooner, rather than later?"

"Of course," Harry said with a laugh.

Harry turned into the kitchen, where Mrs Weasley was conjuring up a vase to fit Malfoy's flowers. He shook his head a little. Malfoy was still a suck-up.

"He's so polite, Harry, I don't know what you were worried about," Mrs Weasley said as she bustled by him. He didn't know what he was so worried about either. Everything was going so well.

He opened the cabinet to get Draco a mug. He shut the cabinet and suddenly Ron was there, his rusty-coloured bearded face serious. "You couldn't let me have the beard, could you?"

"What?" Harry absently rubbed at his stubble. "It's not-"

"Right, mate. You just forgot to shave. Just like you forgot to ask if you could invite bleeding Draco Malfoy to my family Christmas."

"Ron, I asked your parents and they were-"

"Yeah, they're not me, are they? Ginny's actually very upset with you too, you know."

"When is she not?" He said softly into the empty mug.

"Look mate," Ron lowered his voice. "If this is about the thing that happened-"

"Nothing happened," Harry growled. "He's a friend from work who had nowhere to go, no one to be with. It's the holidays. I thought it was the right thing to do."

"He's a friend now, is he? What does that make me, then?"

"Ron-"

"It's not like he's even in your department, Harry."

"Well, no, but-"

Ron made a face. "Take stock, mate, that's all. Take stock."

"What does that even mean?" Harry called after him, but he was already gone. He could face and kill a Dark Lord and countless other monsters and dangers but these Weasleys would be the death of him. He rubbed at his eyes, taking a deep breath. He felt a gentle touch at his shoulder blade.

"Is that my drink, Potter?" Malfoy said softly.

Harry shook himself mentally. "It is." They both looked inside the empty mug. There was that smirk again. "Er, it will be. Got sidetracked." He filled Draco's mug with the hot alcoholic cider. He watched Draco as wrapped his long fingers around the mug and took a sip.

"Alright?"

"It's a bit tense, but it's better than the alternative."

"I meant the mulled cider."

"Oh, right. Yes," he took another sip, his pale eyes holding Harry's. "It's lovely. Thank you."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, feeling his face go hot. He told himself it was just the drink. When he looked up, Malfoy was still looking at him. He felt his face go even hotter. He was suddenly glad he didn't shave. Maybe it would hide how red his face was getting.

Two small children ran through the kitchen with Mrs Weasley scolding along behind them. "Uncle Harry, Uncle Harry!" they cried happily. "Come play with us!"

Harry laughed and patted their small heads. "Okay, okay, I'll be right there, you two. Go get started without me."

"Why is your face all red, Uncle Harry?" one of them asked.

"Shh, it is not," Harry lied. "Go on with your sister."

The two twin girls ran out of the room.

"Weasley and Granger's?" Malfoy asked, gesturing at the kids with his mug.

"Yes, I'd introduce you, but I can never remember which is which."

"Who is whom."

"Are you correcting my grammar?"

"Indeed, Potter. Someone has to."

"No, no one has to."

"Yes, someone definitely does. I've read your reports at work, they're rubbish. It might as well be me." He smirked at Harry over the top of his drink.

Somehow that smirk seemed to say something more, but Harry couldn't quite put his finger on it. He just knew he liked the way it made Malfoy's eyes sparkle. It gave him a weird fluttery feeling in his stomach. He took a large drink of his cider, hoping it might wash away.

Hermione popped her head into the kitchen. "Harry, seen the kids?"

"They went the other way, 'Mione." Harry pointed around the other side of the kitchen.

Hermione groaned. "They're hiding from me, I swear." She brushed her bushy hair behind her ears and stuck her hand out to Draco. "Good to see you, Draco. Enjoying it at the Ministry?"

Harry was surprised her voice was so friendly and even.

Malfoy shook her hand for the briefest of moments. "Yes, quite, thank you. I count myself fortunate to have the opportunity, after the incident with my father. I heard there were a lot of competent witches and wizards up for the position."

Hermione's expression darkened and her hands went to her round belly in front of her. "I know. I had applied for it."

Draco glanced at Harry, but Harry wasn't sure what to do, if anything. Malfoy cleared his throat. "I can put in a good word, if you like, Granger. We need more witches like you in our ranks."

Harry found himself nodding.

"No, thank you, Malfoy." Hermione looked as if she had just tasted something sour. "Excuse me, I need to go find my children." She gave Harry a weak smile as she left the room.

Malfoy's pale eyes found Harry's again. It felt strange, like a lightning bolt had crashed through the house, landing in the pit of his stomach, leaving him with a feeling of.. What?

"I'm sorry, Malfoy, I thought-"

"What, Potter? That everything would be all sunshine and rainbows? It's quite alright."

"No, it's not alright, it's Christmas."

"Not everyone is as quick to forgive as Saint Potter." He smirked at Harry again, with those pale eyes laden full of some hidden meaning that Harry couldn't quite figure out. He just knew he didn't want to look away. It was getting to be a problem at work, him wandering around the huge Ministry building, hoping to run into Draco Malfoy, of all people. He couldn't say why, only that there was some sort of compelling force, a magnetism. Or maybe he was only losing touch with his close friends while they raised a family and his own was so triumphantly falling apart. Clinging to the past, Harry thought bitterly.

"I'm only joking, Harry. I didn't think my presence here would rile everyone up so much. I can see that this was a mistake." Draco put his drink down on the counter. It was empty. "Please give my regards to Mr and Mrs Weasley. They were most gracious, accepting me into their home. As were you, to invite me." Malfoy stepped closer, his voice dropping into a low tone. "Thank you, Harry Potter, for everything."

Malfoy was in the entryway reaching for his coat when Harry finally willed his feet to move. He caught Malfoy's arm and he looked at Harry with that piercing gaze so strongly that he almost recoiled. "Please, don't leave," he said instead. He laughed as Malfoy's eyebrows rose suddenly in surprise.

"No one else wants me here, Potter."

"I do," Harry said softly.

Now Malfoy's eyebrows came down in a scowl. "That's the thing I can't figure out."

"What do you mean?"

"Why would you?"

Harry shifted, suddenly nervous in the small space. "We get on at work alright, don't we? Since, you know."

"Harry, we barely see each other at work."

"All the same. It's Christmas. Come back inside."

Malfoy looked from the Weasley's crowded living room to the door, then back to Harry.

"I'll make you a stronger drink," Harry offered. "It can't get any worse, right?"

Draco's smirk burned a hole through Harry's chest. Why was that happening? All Harry knew was that he wanted Draco to stay, desperately. He had the sudden feeling he wouldn't be able to get through the holidays without him nearby.

"One drink," Draco acquiesced. "A strong one."

Harry grinned, leading the way back to the kitchen. He grabbed their mugs, giving them a quick rinse in the sink. Draco had his hands in his pockets, simply watching. Harry tried to ignore the weird feeling it gave him.

"Mum," Harry called. "Where is Draco's whiskey?"

Malfoy leaned in close. Too close. "It was meant to be a gift, Potter. It's rude to-"

Harry shushed him as Ginny came around the corner. "Harry, there you are." Her eyes flicked to Malfoy and back to Harry. "What are you doing hiding in here?"

"Hiding? No one's hiding, Gin. I'm getting our guest a drink."

Ginny Potter crossed her arms. "You've been getting him a drink for the past half hour."

"Well, we've finished one, and we need another. Can I get you anything?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "You know I'm not drinking, Harry." She had a way of speaking to him lately, as if he were a child who was testing her patience. He wasn't sure when that had started.

"I'm sorry, I forgot."

"You always forget."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Mum says the whiskey is on the table. Genevieve is about to do her piano solo."

"Okay, Gin. Thank you. We'll be right there."

Ginny sighed again as she walked away.

Harry hurriedly grabbed the mugs and the bottle of whiskey. He motioned to the hallway with a tip of his head.

"We aren't staying for the solo?" Draco whispered sarcastically.

"Just follow me, Malfoy."

"Who's Genevieve?"

"George's daughter. Shut up and come with me."

"Are you going to get me into trouble, Potter? Because I'm pretty sure Weasley's parents like me. Maybe I can even get them to like me more than they like him."

"And here I was convinced you actually weren't evil."

They both chuckled at each other's jokes. The truth was that Harry hadn't felt like himself in a long while. Their minute conversations and passing jokes at work were the only semblance of normal Harry had these days. Harry led Draco up the stairs leading to the bedrooms and further, up past the rickety stairs leading to Ron and Ginny's rooms on what used to be the top floor, out onto the newest addition, an attic room with a balcony, meant for guests or grandkids or both.

"Where are you leading me, Potter?"

"To a room with a view. And no piano solos by seven year old girls."

Harry opened the balcony doors. Cold air blew inside, but it actually felt refreshing after being in the too-warm downstairs crammed with many people. Draco followed him out, saying something snarky about leaving his coat, and Harry shut the door behind them. They shuffled through what little snow there was to the edge of the Burrow's highest balcony. Harry handed Malfoy a mug and poured a liberal amount of whiskey in it and did the same for himself. The bottle he left on the decking.

"Happy Christmas," Harry said, holding his mug out for a toast.

Draco smirked. "Happy Christmas," he said as they clinked their mugs together.

Harry finished his in one quick swallow and was surprised to see Draco still smirking at him in a bemused sort of way.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, why are you looking at me that way?"

"No reason," Draco said as he sipped his whiskey and looked away, out over the dim rolling fields that surrounded the Weasley home. The sun was almost down already, painting the sky in deep purple tones.

"You can't say there's no reason," Harry muttered, bending down to refill his mug.

"Harry, you say we're friends-"

"When did I say that?" Harry interjected.

"I heard you say it to Weasley. It doesn't matter, Potter, my point is-"

"Can't we be friends?" Harry cursed his loose tongue silently.

"Of course, if you want, that's fine," Malfoy's tongue seemed likewise loosened, his words coming out in bunches. "But what I mean is, Harry, I don't have a wife so far be it from me to say anything about your relationship, and maybe there's-"

"But you wanted to."

Malfoy looked a bit pained. "Yes, I-" He paused. "I don't like to think of you as unhappy."

"Is anyone really happy?" Harry took this drink much slower than the first. They were too high up off the ground to be sloppy about it.

Draco looked at him with that penetrating gaze. "I'm not sure I'm the person to ask."

"See?" Harry said, waving his cup in Dracos direction. "You're not happy, Ron and Mione, they're not happy. Hes got his father's job and he hates it. All Mione wants to do is work but gets stuck with those kids with another on the way, and Ginny-" He stopped suddenly, realizing how much he had been saying. He took a drink.

"If were friends, like you say, Potter," Malfoy said, turning towards him. "You can talk to me." He said the words slowly, as if taking great care to put them together in the right order. Harry remembered a time when only insults would come out of Draco's mouth. He wondered if it wasn't hard for him, being nice.

Piano music wafted up from below while a small flurry of snow fell around them.

"She's not half bad," Draco said, still sipping his drink.

Harry scoffed. "You haven't heard it twenty times in a row."

Harry realized he suddenly did feel like talking. "Ginny wants to have a baby."

"And you don't?"

"No, no, it's not like that. It's.." Harry faltered. Would Malfoy understand? Would he only crack a joke at Harry's expense? He supposed he might be drunk enough to deal with either situation. "We've been trying and it isn't happening. For some time now."

Draco nodded his head, his gaze on something in the distance. "I'm sorry, Harry. It's probably difficult. For both of you."

Harry sighed like all of the air and tension and stress had suddenly been let out of him. "Yes," he whispered. "I'm afraid, this might be my last Christmas here."

"Are you splitting up?"

Harry shrugged.

"How long have you been married, Potter?"

"Six years." He swirled his whiskey in his mug and shivered.

"Do you want to go in?"

Harry looked towards the door and back to Draco. His nose and cheeks were pink and he was looking at him in that weird way again. Harry bit his lip, trying to figure it out. Was it a game or some sort of trick or-

"Six years is a long time to be with someone," Draco was saying softly, "but it's also a long time to keep trying at something that isn't working."

Harry sighed into his empty mug. He suddenly felt embarrassed. What was he even doing? Baring his heart and soul to Draco Malfoy drunk on his in-law's balcony. He ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair. He looked up and wasn't very surprised this time to find Malfoys gaze centered on him.

"You're staring at me, Malfoy." Harry felt his mood bottom out. He had felt better, telling someone his troubles, but that someone was not someone he trusted. Regret and shame flooded through him along with the whiskey. Probably too much whiskey.

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered, but he didn't stop. "It's nice getting to know you, Potter. After all these years.." Harry watched him sigh and drain his mug. "Do you want a child? You never said."

Harry blew out a breath, making a great steamy plume rise in front of him. "I dunno, Malfoy. I really don't. Sometimes, I think I'd like a lot of kids, like at least three. Other times I think I'd quite like to have none. I didn't have the best childhood and Gin, she had a great one, she wants lots of kids, it's a lot of pressure." He let out a sardonic laugh. "I thought after Voldemort everything would be easy."

"Few things are, Potter."

Harry felt the sudden need to change the subject. "What about you, then? I know next to nothing about you. You used to be such a prat." He realized he was slurring his words and couldn't remember how many drinks he had. Draco was smirking and refilling their mugs. "Sorry," Harry muttered.

"No, no, it's quite alright. I was. But then something happens that makes you realize how wrong you were, about everything." That penetrating stare. Harry was trying to concentrate on Malfoy's words, but it was difficult. "Do you know what I mean?"

Harry nodded, trying to avoid eye contact.

"I really meant what I said downstairs, Harry."

Harry wracked his brain, trying to remember through the drunken fog that was quickly swallowing him. "Which thing was that?"

When Harry looked up, Draco was right next to him at the railing, no space at all between them. It felt a little warmer. "I wanted to thank you, for showing me another way."

"Oh. Um. You're welcome." The truth was that this happened more often than Harry liked to admit, and he never knew how to handle it. It had, in recent years, tapered off but it was still strange to be thanked for something he did to essentially save his own life.

Harry cleared his throat. "About your father, I-"

Draco waved a hand in the air. "We're not going to talk about my father."

"Oh, alright then." Harry was relieved. He didn't want to talk about Lucius Malfoy either, but he felt he should say something.

They looked at each other, and to Harry, it felt like maybe something had just passed between them. He didn't know what, maybe it was only something like an understanding, but it felt important. It felt real.

The music suddenly stopped, replaced with clapping and wild cheering. Some piano solo, indeed.

"We should probably get back. Before your wife notices you're gone and all of that?" Draco had a strange smile on his face. Not quite a smirk, not quite a normal smile either.

"You're right. We should probably stay here."

Draco laughed. "What will you do, Harry? When you divorce your wife?"

Harry felt his smile slip. Was that what he had been saying? Malfoy's hand was on his shoulder, strong and sure.

"I'm sorry Harry, I've had a bit. Sometimes I'm still an ass."

"You said earlier you didn't have a wife. Have you been married?"

"Me? No."

"Why not?"

Malfoy looked at him with that unreadable gaze. Harry tried to muddle through. "I mean, most people our age are or have been, and you, you're-"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "I'm what, Potter?"

"You know," Harry waved his mug in the air, searching for a word that wasn't 'handsome'. "An eligible bachelor," he said instead.

Malfoy laughed, an obscenely loud barking laugh. Harry grinned at the sound of it. "It all looks good on parchment, doesn't it?" Harry was surprised to hear a drawl in the other man's voice; it made him sound more like he did at school, more like his father. "The money, the manor, the family name." Malfoy was looking at his hands, spinning a ring around a slender finger on his right hand.

"Then what's wrong?"

"My father spent his life trying to erase the name his father made for himself. I, likewise, will spend my life trying to erase that same name. Where does that leave me?"

"And your children." Harry realized what his drunken mouth had said and tried to quickly apologize.

Draco only smirked at him. "That's something I don't think I'll have to worry about, Potter."

"You don't want kids, then?"

"I'm gay."

Harry looked into Malfoy's pale eyes, looking for a jest, looking for a way that he could be made into a fool once again by Draco Malfoy. Then he looked over Draco's neat hair, his immaculate appearance. The way he said his comments about not having a wife. The stares in his direction that had only gotten more pronounced with the amount of whiskey they had consumed.

"Oh."

"Well, I did say one drink and it's been a few." Draco started for the door.

Harry reached out, caught his elbow. "Wait." Harry screwed up his face, it was feeling a little numb but he couldn't tell if it was from the cold or the drink. "One more."

Draco looked from Harry to the mug and back again. "I don't think that's a good idea, Potter." His voice was soft, gentle.

"Or it's the best idea," Harry said as he flashed a winning smile.

"Potter."

"What?"

"You are a bit oblivious, aren't you?"

"It's part of my boyish charm."

Draco raised an eyebrow over a growing smirk. "Indeed. You didn't know, did you? When you invited me here?"

"Why would that matter?"

Draco's smirk changed into something more genuine. Harry felt it resonate deep in his chest. It didn't matter to Harry, it only felt like he worked out a portion of the puzzle that was Draco Malfoy. It felt good.

Malfoy only shrugged his slim shoulders. "It wouldn't really, except that most people know that about me and now I know you're having marital troubles, so, it seems time for me to go."

"I feel better when you're around me." Harry hadn't meant to say it, not really.

Draco faltered a moment, but to his credit, it was only a moment. "I enjoy your company as well, Potter, much more than I thought I would. Perhaps we can spend more time together when we're not at your in-law's."

Harry laughed to himself. At himself. What a right mess he had made of things. "Of course."

Draco made another move towards the door. Harry pushed down the panic that threatened to rise up in his throat. "If you really can't stay," Harry started.

Malfoy pointed a finger in his direction. "Shouldn't stay, Potter. Shouldn't. So I am going. Doing the right thing is fairly new to me, but I'm certain, in this instance, this is it."

"You're drunk."

"So are you."

Harry knew he was standing too close but Malfoy didn't move away. He only looked at him with that unnerving stare.

"Why do you look at me like that?"

"You look good, Harry. Though I do miss your glasses." Malfoy's voice was low and quiet.

Harry felt his face go hot despite the cold. "Me too," he said softly. He pulled them out of his pocket and unfolded them. Ginny had insisted on magically correcting his vision and, after many fights, he had relented and let her do it. He still carried his glasses on him wherever he went though, just in case. Or maybe just for the comfort they brought him. He put them on.

"Better?" He squinted, the glasses making his vision blurred instead of better.

He could still see Draco's smirk, however. "Can I fix that for you?"

"My vision or the glasses?" Harry chuckled at his own joke.

"Whichever you prefer."

"Can you actually make my vision worse? With magic?"

Draco already had his wand out and was muttering a spell; Harry remembered it well even though the war was long over. A friendly wand, a compatible wand. What did that say about the two of them?

Then, his glasses worked. He gasped. It was such a little thing, but also very huge. He felt like himself. He felt normal. He wrapped his arms around Draco's tall shoulders, then realized what he was doing and stepped back abruptly. "Thanks," he said, a sheepish grin on his numb face.

Draco nodded. "Don't mention it. Will you walk me out?"

"Of course."

They descended the stairs in silence, Harry looking over his shoulder more than he meant to, whether to see if Malfoy was still following him or just to enjoy seeing him, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Everyone downstairs was bustling around, placing cups and plates around the Weasley's massive table.

"There you two are, Harry," Mrs Weasley was saying, "we thought we lost you! Come, dinner is almost ready."

"Oh, um, I'll be right there, Mum. Draco has to leave, I'll just see him out."

"Draco, dear, you sure you can't stay for dinner?"

Harry grinned as Draco looked uncomfortable. Then his eyes met Ginny's scowling ones and his grin fell away. "He really can't, Mum," Harry said dejectedly as he pushed Draco towards the front door.

"Thank you, Mr and Mrs Weasley, you've been most gracious hosts," Draco called as he left the kitchen.

"Come back any time, dear!" Mrs Weasley called.

"Or not at all," Ginny scoffed, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Ginny!"

Harry hurried Draco to the door. Malfoy was looking at him in that peculiar way as he placed his muffler around his neck and started shrugging on his long black coat. "I hope I didn't make anything more difficult for you, Harry."

Harry thought for a moment, shook his head. It made the Weasley's entryway swim and sway. How much had he had to drink? Harry grabbed his own coat and flung it on.

"What are you doing, Potter?"

"Walking you out," he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to walk your once-enemy out the door on a cold winter's night right before Christmas, leaving behind an angry wife. He opened the door and ushered Malfoy through it. Malfoy only smirked.

The snow fell around them once more, under the porch light that adorned the Weasley's front door.

"You okay to get home?" Harry asked. He wasn't sure how well apparating and drinking went together.

"I'll be fine."

"You'll still be alone on Christmas?"

"I'll be fine," he said again, Harry thought his voice might have sounded a bit sad. "I had a good time tonight. Thank you for inviting me, Harry."

"Yes, thank you for coming, Draco."

A not so uncomfortable silence fell around them. Harry didn't know if he should return the gaze or look away. He just knew didn't want to look away.

"You know where I live," Draco sniffed, looking up at the night sky. "I wouldn't mind if you wanted to stop by. You know, to talk, or," he paused, smirking at Harry, "whatever."

Harry blushed under that stare. He fought to keep control of his body, then decided a moment like this may not come again in his lifetime. He wrapped his arms around Draco's middle and he felt his heart soar unexpectedly when Draco returned the embrace. Draco pulled away almost immediately, his cold pointed nose brushing Harry's ear.

"Take care of yourself, Harry Potter," he whispered, then pressed his lips to Harry's cheek.

Harry felt frozen to the spot. His hand went to his cheek where Malfoy kissed him. He watched as Draco stepped away from him.

"Happy Christmas," Harry said weakly.

"Happy Christmas," Draco smirked.

There was a sound like a thunderclap and Draco Malfoy was gone.

Something long and black was fluttering to the ground in his wake. Harry stooped and picked it up. Draco's muffler.

He wrapped it around his own neck and watched the snow fill in Draco's footprints before heading back inside.


End file.
